The Water Paradox of Ancient China
For millennia, water had been both the lifeblood and the scourge of Chinese civilization. The terrifying legends of the Great Flood—”waters overwhelming heaven, vast expanses surrounding mountains and submerging hills”—remained etched in collective memory well into the Warring States period (475-221 BCE). During this era, China’s climate was markedly different from today: humid, rainy, and crisscrossed by abundant rivers under dense forest canopies. Flooding posed a far greater threat than drought, giving rise to the concept of “beneficial water” (益水)—water that could be controlled and utilized.
The mighty Yangtze basin, with its interconnected lakes and rivers like the sprawling Yunmeng Marsh (larger than several central plains states combined), exemplified this paradox. Despite Chu’s vast territory stretching to Lingnan after absorbing Wu and Yue, its true wealth concentrated only in the Jianghuai region. The rest remained underdeveloped due to uncontrollable waterways colliding through mountainous terrain, creating perpetual flood zones unsuitable for stable agriculture.
By contrast, the Yellow River basin had become the epitome of “beneficial water” since Yu the Great’s legendary dredging. With rivers systematically channeled to the sea, the Central Plains transformed into China’s fertile core—a checkerboard of well-field farms, thriving cities, and interconnected villages that birthed Chinese civilization. Yet even here, flood prevention remained the primary hydraulic concern, with irrigation and navigation secondary. Iconic projects like:
– Chu’s Han River diversion at Ying
– Wei’s Zhang River channel to Ye and Hong Canal
– Qin’s Dujiangyan in Sichuan
All originated as flood control measures. Drought resistance barely registered as a national priority—until nature forced Qin to confront its hydrological blind spot.
The Cracks in Qin’s “Land of Abundance”
Qin’s heartland—the Guanzhong Basin—was considered China’s most privileged hydraulic environment. Ancient texts describe it poetically: “Nine major rivers and eighteen lakes span eight hundred li east to west.” The nine principal waterways—Wei, Jing, Feng, Luo, Ba, Chan, Hao, Jue, and Lao—formed a dense network with over fifty tributaries, while eighteen lakes like Niushou Pond and Lan Pool dotted the landscape like liquid jewels. This earned Guanzhong its proud nickname: “The Continent-Ocean.”
Yet beneath this aqueous abundance lurged two fatal flaws:
1. The White Scourge: Salt-Alkali Wastelands
Low-lying areas where intersecting rivers and lakes pooled created vast salt-alkali flats. These “white-haired lands” (白毛碱滩) presented a surreal sight—blooming with white crystalline flowers in summer floods, then billowing alkaline dust in winter winds. As peasant sayings warned:
“Salt blooms, alkali spreads, fertile fields turn to barren beds.”
Even adjacent productive land could be contaminated within 3-5 years through capillary action, requiring decades of drainage efforts to reclaim.
2. The Thirsty Highlands: Water-Gazing Drought Fields
The northern plains gradually rose toward the Loess Plateau, creating undulating tablelands (塬) cut by gullies. Though rivers glistened tantalizingly below, lifting water to these elevations required Herculean efforts beyond village capabilities. As another proverb lamented:
“Toil brings no yield, water mocks our need.”
Tableland harvests averaged just 30-40% of lowland yields, failing completely in dry years.
These vulnerabilities remained manageable during normal years, but when the unprecedented drought struck during King Zheng’s reign (246-210 BCE), Qin’s hydraulic paradox exploded into crisis.
The Drought Crisis and Political Tremors
The summer of 238 BCE brought calamity. As the historian Sima Qian later recorded:
“No rain fell from spring to autumn. Wells dried, rivers shrank to threads, and the earth cracked like tortoise shells.”
Panic rippled through Qin’s establishment. For the first time, water—not war—dominated court debates. Twenty-six petitions about neglected water projects piled up in the chancellor’s office within weeks. Three emergency patterns emerged:
1. Grassroots Desperation
Peasant communities, especially recent migrants from eastern states, began unauthorized canal digging from remaining lakes, sparking violent water disputes.
2. Aristocratic Alarm
Noble landowners pressed county magistrates for emergency irrigation channels, while simultaneously lobbying the capital for systemic solutions.
3. Bureaucratic Paralysis
With Chancellor Lü Buwei recently dismissed, competing proposals from the:
– Agriculture Office (大田令)
– Granary Administration (太仓令)
– Public Works (邦司空)
Flooded the young king’s desk without centralized coordination.
The crisis exposed Qin’s fragile prosperity—its vaunted “abundant water” infrastructure couldn’t withstand a single severe drought. As court economist Cai Ze had warned years earlier:
“40,000 qing (≈200,000 acres) of dry fields and 20,000 qing of alkali flats await the Jing River Diversion Project. Only by channeling water from highlands can we conquer both drought and salinity.”
Yet this visionary project, initiated by Lü Buwei, languished incomplete due to political turmoil—a symbol of Qin’s neglected hydraulic responsibilities.
King Zheng’s Crisis Response
The 21-year-old monarch reacted with characteristic intensity, working sleeplessly through the disaster. His tripartite emergency measures revealed both pragmatism and strategic foresight:
1. Agricultural Salvage
– Ordered immediate construction of temporary irrigation channels (毛渠)
– Deployed officials to mediate water disputes
– Prioritized seed grain distribution for drought-resistant crops
2. Economic Controls
– Fixed grain prices to prevent speculation
– Banned food exports while encouraging imports
– Reallocated transport resources to drought relief
3. Military Preparedness
At the legendary Blue Fields Camp (蓝田大营) war council, Qin’s generals devised a preemptive strike on Pingyang (平阳) to:
– Secure the strategic Hedong region
– Deter opportunistic attacks from drought-stricken Zhao, Wei, and Chu
– Demonstrate Qin’s continued strength despite natural disaster
Veteran general Huan Qi (桓龁) and rising star Wang Jian (王翦) planned a sophisticated pincer movement involving 280,000 troops—a bold gamble during domestic crisis, but one that ultimately succeeded in stabilizing Qin’s borders.
The Hydraulic Awakening
This drought marked a paradigm shift in Chinese water management. Where previous dynasties focused solely on flood control, Qin began systematically addressing:
1. Drought Resistance through projects like the Zhengguo Canal
2. Salinity Mitigation via drainage systems
3. Integrated Water Networks combining irrigation, transport, and flood control
The crisis also hardened King Zheng’s resolve to unify China—only a centralized empire, he realized, could mobilize resources for comprehensive water management. When the Zheng Guo spy scandal later erupted (revealing the namesake canal engineer as a Han operative sent to exhaust Qin’s resources), the king famously declared:
“Though his intent was sabotage, the canal benefits Qin for eternity.”
This pragmatism characterized Qin’s subsequent hydraulic projects, which became cornerstones of its military-agricultural complex. Within decades, Guanzhong transformed from a drought-vulnerable region into China’s most productive breadbasket—the foundation for Qin’s ultimate conquest.
Legacy: Water and the Making of China
The 238 BCE drought proved a catalytic moment in Chinese history. Its lessons reverberated through:
– The Zhengguo Canal (completed 246 BCE), irrigating 40,000 qing
– Lingqu Canal (214 BCE), linking Yangtze and Pearl River systems
– Dujiangyan’s expansion (3rd century BCE), creating Sichuan’s “Land of Abundance”
These projects established hydraulic engineering as a core imperial responsibility—a tradition maintained through:
– Han’s Yellow River control systems
– Tang’s Grand Canal expansions
– Ming’s massive water conservancy programs
Modern China still draws on this legacy, with projects like the South-North Water Diversion echoing Qin’s ambition to balance water resources across regions. The drought that once threatened Qin’s survival ultimately propelled it—and China—toward a new understanding of water’s central role in civilization’s rise and fall.
As climate change reintroduces water stress today, Qin’s hard-won lessons about diversified water management, infrastructure investment, and systemic planning regain urgent relevance—proving that even 2,200 years later, the balance between flood and drought remains civilization’s liquid lifeline.
No comments yet.